


Not the Punishment but the Cause

by thewightknight



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Corporal Punishment, Hurt No Comfort, M/M, Mention of blood, Not Canon Compliant, Rated For Violence, it all works out in the end, not TLJ compliant, well maybe some comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-04
Updated: 2018-12-17
Packaged: 2019-05-18 08:46:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14849558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thewightknight/pseuds/thewightknight
Summary: It had been six months since the Resistance destroyed Starkiller Base. Kylo Ren is finally returning to theFinalizer, and Snoke has instructed him to deliver Hux's long-delayed punishment for his failures.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Time for another darkfic. Tagging this one is hard. If it seems I've missed something please let me know and I will add it.
> 
> First four chapters are finished. There will be 5 or 6 total. Updates weekly. *fingers crossed*

Holoconferences with the Supreme Leader had always been an honor, something Hux took pride in. He took each nod of the head as an accolade, each new order as a challenge, and looked forward to each meeting with eagerness. That had been before the Resistance’s attack on Starkiller Base. Now each one was a torture, because Snoke had not once mentioned the base's destruction since that hurried call where he ordered Hux to bring him Kylo Ren. He should have been grateful for the reprieve, thankful that Snoke didn’t hold the fiasco against him, hadn’t posted him to some remote backwater, hadn’t stripped him of his rank. But there was something, some feeling, the hint of an expression on Snoke’s face, evident even through the flickering and color distortion, that disturbed him. He left each meeting with the feeling that he hadn’t been forgiven, a sense of looming dread that followed him throughout the days and weeks and finally months, until at last Kylo Ren returned to the Finalizer.

He met Ren’s shuttle as it docked, as befitted their shared station. He hadn’t missed the man, not one bit. He reminded himself of this as the ramp extended. For six months there had been no destroyed consoles and no Force-choked, terrorized officers to disrupt their repair efforts and reorganization, and no challenges to his authority as he allocated resources to meet their most pressing needs. It had almost been peaceful, as strange as that seemed.

Steeling himself, he watched as Ren stomped into view. Boots, then the long legs, the broad torso, face shrouded by drapes of fabric. He could see the hint of features in the shadows the cloth cast and blinked in surprise that Ren hadn’t forged a new helmet in his absence. The face that emerged as Ren pushed his cowl back held no expression, though. Had the man finally learned how to control his features? Disappointing. Watching him flush in rage had been one of Hux’s few amusements.

He had a greeting prepared, but before he could begin Ren spoke.

“The Supreme Leader demands our presence immediately, General.” With that, he strode past Hux, not waiting for an acknowledgement. Thrown off balance, Hux hastened after him, stretching his legs to keep up.

“Do we have new orders?” he asked, trying to regain his composure, sneaking glances at Ren’s profile as they strode through the corridors.

“All will be made clear,” was the infuriating response, and Ren refused to acknowledge any of Hux's questions after that. He hadn’t missed this man at all, he reminded himself as they entered the chamber.

They didn’t have to wait. The Supreme Leader’s hologram sprang to life as soon as the doors closed behind them, and for the first time Hux had to walk across the room under Snoke’s stare. He felt like a penitent, resisting the urge to bow his head as he approached Snoke’s throne, Ren a shadow behind him, a brooding escort. Everything about this set him on edge.

When they had assumed their accustomed positions Snoke stared down at him, his attention focused on Hux to an uncomfortable degree.

“Supreme Leader,” he said, with a nod of his head, suppressing the sudden urge to kneel. What was the matter with him? He shoved his unease down as the silence stretched out.

Next to him, Ren shifted, seemingly breaking the spell, as Snoke finally began to speak.

“General Hux.” Something in the way his name dropped from Snoke’s lips made Hux’s skin crawl. “You have been waiting, I know, for me to address the matter of your failure in regards to Starkiller Base.” Snoke’s face split in a horrid parody of a smile. “Kylo Ren has spent these last months atoning for his part in the events that led up to this loss. Now that he has returned, he will exercise my authority in this matter. Know that everything he does is in accordance with my wishes, and you will obey him in this without question.”

Before he could form a response Snoke’s hologram flickered out. Hux stared at the empty air where his projection had been, shaking his head in disbelief. Of all the things he had imagined over sleepless nights these long months, none of them had come close to this. Turning, he found Ren already halfway to the door, his long strides carrying him across the empty chamber with a grace unlike his previous stomping gait. Knowing he should follow he found he couldn’t force himself to move and he stared at Ren’s retreating back, dread continuing to build in him. When Ren reached the door he turned back, face still impassive.

“You will report to my quarters at the end of gamma shift this evening, General.” And with that he was gone, leaving Hux with a sinking sensation in his gut.

If asked, Hux couldn’t have repeated anything he said or did for the rest of the day. The hours passed with agonizing slowness, but at the same time not slow enough because here he was now, standing outside Ren’s quarters. Before he could toggle the alert the doors slid open and steeling himself, he stepped forward. He would not shrink away from this, whatever Snoke and Ren had planned for him, if only to get it over and done with as soon as possible. It couldn’t be worse that the sense of dread that had hovered over him for the past six months, he told himself as he squinted in the dim lighting. Had Ren broken all the bulbs in his quarters already? He'd barely been back aboard the ship half a day.

There was no sign of Ren in the outer room, the reception area that served as his office in his own quarters.

“In here.”

He gave thanks at the absence of furniture as he proceeded further into the suite, following the sound of Ren’s voice through the near darkness.

Ren lounged on a chair, legs propped up on a footstool, poking at a datapad. He didn’t look up as Hux stopped short at the sight of him. Instead of his usual heavy robes he wore only a black tank and loose pants, revealing that unlike Hux, his bulk didn’t rely on padding and careful tailoring. His scars stood out in stark relief, even paler than the skin around them, a slight sheen to them apparent even in the dim lighting.

“Strip.”

It took a moment for the import of that word to sink in. Ren hadn’t looked up from his reading when he spoke, but as the silence stretched on and Hux made no move to obey, he scowled.

“Do I need to repeat myself?”

Hux met Ren’s scowl with one of his own, pointless as Ren still stared at his pad. With quick motions he worked the fasteners of his jacket open. With nowhere else to put it, he folded it and laid it at his feet. Piece by piece he bared himself until he stood in a sleeveless tank and shorts. When he paused this time Ren looked up. He didn’t say anything, but even without words he conveyed his impatience with the barest twitch of an eyebrow. Tugging at the hem of his undershirt, he let his gaze drop as he pulled it up over his head. After the shirt and shorts had joined the rest of his clothes on the floor, Ren spoke again.

“Kneel.”

This time he didn’t hesitate. Ren hadn’t allowed himself the luxury of any carpets or throws in his quarters, nothing to cushion his knees from the durasteel floors. As he shifted, trying to find the least uncomfortable position, Ren set his datapad down on the floor beside his chair and rose. With a screech of metal on metal the stool he’d rested his feet on slid across the floor, coming to rest scant millimeters from Hux’s legs where he knelt. Allowing himself a brief moment of satisfaction that he hadn’t flinched, Hux stared up at Ren, waiting. Stretching out a hand, Ren summoned something from across the room. His belt, wide, black leather, flew into his hand, and this time Hux would have flinched if he’d been capable of moving. Instead, he found himself frozen in place, mouth dry, as Ren folded the belt in half. With another gesture, he found himself pushed down, held against the rough fabric that covered the stool. He had enough freedom to turn his head to the side, the only motion he was allowed. The heavy tread of Ren’s footsteps sounded from his blind side, the only warning he had before Ren painted a blinding streak of pain across his shoulder blades.  

“Scream if you must,” he heard through the pounding of blood in his ears, and he stubbornly set his jaw, vowing to himself that he’d make no sound. The next stroke caught him across the small of the back, followed by another on his left shoulder. At first counting seemed like a good idea and he did so to himself but a sudden flurry of blows left him gasping and lost and after that the strokes began to blur. At random times Ren would angle his blows, hitting him with the edge of the leather, whiplike cracks breaking up the bludgeoning blows. Whether it was blood or sweat falling from his skin, he couldn’t tell, and just as he reached his breaking point Ren stopped. With sweat stinging his eyes and the taste of copper filling his mouth he watched as Ren dropped the belt on the floor and walked back to his chair.

“Leave.”

By his internal clock, he estimated that it took him a good twenty minutes to put himself together. Not once as he struggled to sit, as he forced his body to move, as he clothed himself one piece at a time while his entire body screamed at him with every movement, did Ren look up from his datapad. When at last he stood, hat in hand, he couldn’t help but ask, prolonging the moment when he'd have to raise his trembling hands to place it on his head, dreading the answer but needing to know it all the same.

“Are we done?”

Still Ren refused to look at him, a statue except for the occasional flick of a finger. 

“For now.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "For now," Ren had said. Hux's punishment continues.

Even at this late hour Hux should have passed someone in the corridors between Ren’s quarters and his. He didn’t question whether it was luck or some Force trick of Ren’s, just gave silent thanks as his doors closed behind him. Peeling his coat and undershirt off almost did him in but he still forced himself on, rooting through the cabinet in his refresher until he found the antiseptic spray. The sting of it forced the first sound out of him since the ordeal had begun, a whimper he quickly stifled. Staggering to his bed, he let himself fall, shudders overtaking him as at last he let the darkness claim him.

Unconsciousness didn’t last and he spent the remainder of the night drifting in and out of a light doze, waking at every slight movement as it sent ripples of agony through him. When his alarm sounded he dragged himself out of bed. 

It has been blood, he discovered, now dried, and the hot water sluicing across his welts forced him into a facsimile of wakefulness. He applied another coat of antiseptic and dry swallowed two pain pills, forcing a ration bar down afterwards despite the roiling of his stomach.

At end of the day he realized he had no memory of most of it. Ren had been nowhere to be seen for the entirety of it, at least that he'd noticed. Perhaps he'd been skulking about just out of sight, gloating at Hux's barely controlled agony. Hux wouldn't put it past him. It took another shower to unstick his shirt from his back that evening, streaks of pink coloring the water at his feet as it swirled down the drain.

Weighing the pros and cons of taking a sleeping tablet, he ended up splitting one in half. The lesser dose would hopefully allow him some sleep that evening, but not leave him unable to answer if an emergency arose during his sleeping shift.

It took another two days before he could move without suppressing a flinch and sleep without dosing himself, and a full week for the marks to fade. He could still feel them, though, especially whenever Ren appeared on the command deck, shoulders tensing, remembering each blow.

 _For now_ , Ren had said, and Hux waited for any indication of what would happen next. Ren remained inscrutable, eyes blank of all emotion, face giving nothing away. When Snoke summoned them for a holoconference, no mention was made of his past failure or continued punishment. Instead, Snoke lavished him with praise for the progress they'd made in increasing the number of systems under their control. Another handful of days passed and despite himself Hux began to relax.  That must have been what Ren was waiting for.

This time the summons came in message form, his datapad beeping just as he was considering whether or not to pour himself a glass of whiskey.

_My quarters. Immediately._

He thought about having that drink first anyways, and maybe a couple of pills too, to deaden himself beforehand, but decided against it. There was no guarantee it would all stay in his stomach. He put the tablets and a glass of water on his nightstand instead before he left.

Standing in front of Ren's door, he found he couldn't remember any of the walk from his quarters. As before, the door slid open for him. It seemed almost a dream, reliving the last time. Ren sat in the same place, feet propped up on the same stool.  

"You know what to do."

He stripped again, folding each piece with care, and knelt without prompting, staring at a point on the wall above Ren's head. This time Ren kicked the stool over to him instead of using the Force, and Hux laid himself across it before Ren made him, gripping the legs of the stool as he waited. He turned his head away, not watching as Ren rose, forcing himself to relax when he heard Ren's approaching footsteps. Bracing himself, he took a deep breath while he still could.  

He waited, and waited some more, hearing Ren pace back and forth next to him, his heart fluttering with each footfall, anticipating Ren's first strike, a strike which never came.

Finally he snapped. "Well, get on with it then."

"Are you so eager for pain, General?"

"Eager to get this over wi...."

The first blow landed before he could finish his sentence, driving the breath from him. Another followed so quickly on the first the pain didn't have time to register, and another after that. Ren rained blows down on him, and when his nerve endings caught up it was all at once, his whole body screaming at him even as the beating continued. 

When it stopped, he didn't know. He never lost consciousness but his brain simply ... went away at some point. When he returned to himself, he had no idea how long it had been or when Ren had stopped. His eyes refused to focus at first. When the room resolved itself at last he realized the dark blob in the middle of his field of vision was Ren, back to sitting in his chair. It took every ounce of concentration he had to force his hands to relax, but one by one he peeled his fingers away from the legs of the stool, staring at the ridges he'd cut into his own skin from his grip.  

At his first attempt to sit up, he fell over, body refusing to cooperate. Ren hadn't confined himself to Hux's back and shoulders, as he had during their last session. Both the backs of his thighs and the soles of his feet had been targeted as well. Laying on his side, he began counting. Somewhere between one and two hundred his numbers failed him. Starting over again, he managed to push himself up after he reached a count of five hundred.  Bit by bit he reassembled himself, shamelessly using the stool for support. It took him three tries to stand and he hissed in pain as he put his full weight on his abused feet. Without sparing Ren a look he hobbled from the room.

The hallways weren't as empty this time but he managed to avoid the few random troopers and techs who crossed his path, stumbling into alcoves when he heard them approach. He grayed out once, catching himself on a maintenance hatch before he hit the floor. If he fell he knew he wouldn't get up again.

He made it to his quarters by sheer force of will, bracing his arms against the wall as he stripped off his clothes, this time letting them lay where they fell. He blacked out in the 'fresher, coming to in a heap on the floor, the sonics long since dispersed. Standing was beyond him, he discovered, so he crawled to his bed and levered himself up onto the mattress.  Swallowing the tablets dry, he collapsed across his covers.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The punishment continues.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll be on vacation next week so ch 4 won't be posting next Monday. I'll try to get it up as soon as I get back!

The next morning, for the first time in his life, he slept through his alarm. Arriving on the bridge for his shift by mere seconds, he survived the day on a combination of pills and caf, leaving him with a sour stomach on top of everything else. Every nerve still screamed at him when he returned to his quarters, and he forced himself to sleep with a combination of whiskey and more pills. 

He woke to the notification that Ren's shuttle had left during gamma shift and almost started crying in relief. He'd filed a flight plan, wonder of wonders, and Hux would have three weeks of peace. 

The welts hadn't fully healed when the Supreme Leader summoned him again. Snoke made no reference to their previous meeting, instead questioning him on Resistance movements, still obsessed with locating that old Jedi and now also with the scavenger girl. Biting back protests at the waste of time and resources, Hux reported on their findings. Their intelligence suggested three possible locations for the new Resistance base, and it was evident from their activities that following the destruction of the Hosnian system their resources were dwindling. 

Snoke dismissed him without asking for any further information and Hux growled in frustration as his holo flickered out. The man was their titular leader, and yet during this meeting he hadn't once asked about the Order's activities. Hux continued to increase his power and pad his coffers and he focused instead on such insignificant details. The First Order had more important things on which to focus. Soon the galaxy would be under their control, and sooner if they didn't allow themselves to be distracted by such trivial matters. 

The next day Kylo returned, two weeks ahead of schedule. Hux's holopad alerted him to an incoming message the instant his shuttle left hyperspace. 

_My quarters. One hour._

 

**I still have over four hours left in my shift.** He hesitated before hitting send, but dammit, he had work to do.

 

The response came almost instantly, unchanged.

 

_One hour._

 

Swearing under his breath, he set a reminder in his calendar and rescheduled two meetings. It took almost twenty minutes to reach the officers' deck from the command center so he blocked himself out for almost two hours all told. 

The annoyance served to keep other, less desirable emotions at bay, up until the moment he arrived at the doors to Kylo's quarters. They opened at his approach and he forced himself over the threshold. This time Ren stood in the middle of the front room, still clad in robes and helmet. A sick feeling erupted in Hux's stomach when he saw what Ren held in one hand - a strip of flexible metal edging, the kind used to cover joins between wall plates.

"Coat and shirt off. Stand against the wall."

His hands trembled as he undid the fasteners despite his attempts to still them. The wall Ren pointed to was smooth, nothing for him to hold onto. He laid his palms flat against the cool wall plates, bracing himself for what was to come. This time Kylo didn't make him wait. He could hear the whistle as the strip cut through the air and pain exploded an instant after the impact, a red hot brand across his shoulders. Pressing his forehead against the wall, he tried to force his lungs to work, to take in air to replace what he'd expelled at the impact. He hadn't manged before the second blow fell, criss-crossing the first. Ren timed the third and fourth to hit when the flare of pain from the previous lash peaked. At the tenth he collapsed, because it was either that or scream and he would never, ever give Ren that satisfaction. Ren continued, undeterred, each blow timed and measured for maximum pain. After twenty he dropped the slat and yanked Hux upright by his hair. A sound escaped him at the sudden movement, a harsh intake of breath, almost a sob, but Ren didn't seem to notice.  

"Do not question the Supreme Leader's motives again," he growled in Hux's ear. 

"I didn't ...." he choked out. Ren's hand tightened in his hair, shaking him, cutting off his words.  

"He knows." Releasing him, Ren stood. He managed to throw his arms out in front of him so his head fell on them instead of impacting with the floor. Ren's boots filled his narrow field of vision, narrowing down on them as he moved away. The door opened, then closed behind him, leaving Hux huddled around himself, his harsh breaths echoing through the room.

The minutes ticked by. Hux's comm chimed, then chimed again. Gritting his teeth, he dragged himself along the floor until he could reach his coat. 

"Hux here." 

"Sir? Your meeting started ten minutes ago?" Hints of incredulousness leaked through in Opan's voice. He knew and appreciated Hux's extreme punctuality.

"You'll have to reschedule until tomorrow. Clear the rest of my day." 

"But, sir...."

Hux cut him off, struggling to keep his voice steady.

"Tell them the Supreme Leader's needs take precedence," he said before cutting the channel. That wasn't a lie, not exactly. It was at Snoke's command that he found himself unable to fulfill his duties, after all. He wasn't to question Snoke's motives, fine. He wasn't going to kill himself pursuing them, either. That thought might get him whipped again but at the moment he couldn't find any energy to care.

He got to his feet in stages, first on hands and knees, then kneeling upright, one foot planted on the floor and a giant heave to bring him to standing. When he staggered into Ren's refresher, he found it empty except for a few personal grooming items. Nothing useful revealed itself. No painkillers. No bacta. 

"A Force user doesn't need to bother with such trivial things, I suppose," he said to himself, on the verge of breaking out into hysterical laughter. He examined himself in the mirror, wishing instantly he hadn't. His back was a mass of bleeding stripes. He couldn't get dressed again, not before receiving some kind of treatment. 

Ren left his console unlocked, so Hux was able to summon a med droid to Ren's quarters. He inserted the routine that would erase the request after treatment was marked completed and settled himself gingerly on the corner of the bed, waiting for the droid to arrive. A spiteful part of him urged him to roll around on Ren's sheets, but the satisfaction he'd get out of it wouldn't be worth the pain the movements would cause. 

The droid arrived in due course. Opan arrived with it. If he'd been in command of his full faculties, Hux wouldn't have been surprised at his appearance, not after their earlier exchange. Hux's continued good health and success were in the captain's best interests. Opan took in the scene with one sweep of his steely eyes, then settled in to wait for the droid to finish, standing at parade rest at the other corner of the bed. Once his back was seen to and the droid left, he spoke before Opan could.

"You will not attempt to assassinate Kylo Ren. Don't even think about it. You will die, and you will undoubtedly take me with you."

"Sir?"

"That is an order, Opan."

"If you say so, sir."

"Opan." He could see the spark of rebellion in his underling's eyes. "What you see here was done at the Supreme Leader's orders."

"What if he kills you, sir?"

"He won't." Certainty colored Hux's words. There had always been ... something between the two of them. Some tenuous connection, some spark of recognition. He still felt it, no matter the changes to Ren's manner. "He survived his punishment and returned. I will survive mine as well."

"Very well, sir."

"I'm going to retire to my quarters. Keep your ears open."

"Always, sir."


	4. Chapter 4

The night before Ren was due to return Hux prepared. He’d requisitioned a field first aid kit as well as several extra doses of potent analgesics. His schedule was empty for the following day, aside from his usual duties, and he’d laid in a stock of his least detested ration bars in case he found himself unable to leave his quarters.

When he awoke the next morning it was to a notification that Ren had landed in the early hours. No messages waited for him, though. With each passing hour his nerves wound tighter and tighter, waiting for a summons that never came.  By the time he retreated to his quarters, he went straight for the kit, helping himself to a double dose of anti-nausea medication. When another hour passed without a message from Ren, he was able to force himself to choke down a meal. His usual bedtime approached and he mechanically went through his evening routine. Half convinced Ren would contact him as soon as he relaxed, he lay in his bed staring at the ceiling until exhaustion finally claimed him.

His expectation became reality when his comm started chiming in the early hours. Rubbing his few hours of sleep from his eyes, he fumbled his way out of bed.

“Hux. My quarters. Now.” The line went dead before he could answer.

“Fuck.”

Willing his racing heart to quiet, he threw on the first clothing that came to hand. The corridors blurred before him as he walked, blocks of light and dark blending together before his sleep-muddled eyes.  


When he arrived at Ren’s quarters, he found the doors already open. Stepping inside, he froze at the scene before him.

Ren held Opan spread-eagled against one wall, his arm outstretched, fingers twitching. Hovering only a few inches in front of Opan’s face, a vicious looking insect snapped its pincers and lashed its tail. Sweat beaded Opan’s forehead and his mouth hung open, breath coming in short gasps. 

“He thought to catch me unawares, still tired from my journey.”

“I’m sorry, sir,” Opan choked out and Ren twisted his hand, cutting off his words. 

“Ren,” Hux started and Ren cut him off.

“You ordered him not to, I know. He told me.” Another twitch of his fingers and the insect floated closer and closer, stopping only a hair’s breath away from Opan’s nose. Hux had never seen this particular specimen before, but he knew it would be native to whatever planet Ren had last visited, and deadly. Opan had heard Hux rant about Ren’s negligence when it came to decontamination protocols often enough. It would have been the perfect death if he’d succeeded.

“Ren, let him go.”

“Why? So he can try again?”

“He won’t. Please, Ren.”

At his words he saw the first flicker of emotion on Ren’s face since Ren’s return. It was there and gone again so fast he couldn’t identify it and would have thought he’d imagined it if he hadn’t been watching Ren’s face so closely. Before he could give it any further thought Ren made a fist and Opan grunted. Fearing the worst, Hux turned to look, breathing out a sigh of relief as he saw the crushed insect fall to the floor. Ren let his hand drop and Opan collapsed, twisting wildly to one side to avoid landing on the squished remains of his weapon of choice. A detached part of Hux made a note to ask him what it was later, if even when dead it still warranted such caution.

“Get out.” Ren’s words cut through the room. Neither of them wasted any time complying. When they reached the corridor, Opan turned to face Hux.

"I'm sorry."  


A variety of responses hovered on the tip of Hux's tongue. He discarded all of them.  


"Have medical see to your throat."  


He didn't get back to sleep after he returned to his quarters.

Another day passed in a haze. Their progress had slowed in several key systems. Hux knew there was a solution. He could feel, taste it, hovering just out of his grasp. He berated himself for his failure even as he railed against the cause of it.

Nearly stumbling with exhaustion, he practically fell into his quarters that evening, then caught himself at the sight that greeted him. Ren stood in the center of his office. He held the metal slat, still stained with Hux's blood, between his hands. With one end he pointed, and Hux saw the bar, newly welded to the wall in the space where a painting had once hung. He didn’t wait to be prompted. As he began to remove his clothing, he saw painting on the floor behind his desk leaning it up against the wall. The absurdity of the care taken with one of his personal possessions contrasted with the abuse Ren was about to inflict on his person almost drove a laugh out of him.

He had to reach up to grasp the bar. It felt cool and smooth under his palms. It would warm up soon enough. He hadn't heard Ren approached and jumped when he registered a flicker of movement in his peripheral vision. Bile rose in his throat at the click of a manacle around his wrist. After securing him to the bar, Ren surprised him again. 

"Here." It was one of his own gloves he held up, buttery soft as it brushed against Hux's lips. He turned his head away, pressing his lips together in refusal, waiting for some biting comment in response. Ren held the glove there for a few seconds longer before letting it drop.

The pain from the previous whipping still lingered, hovering under flesh barely made whole again. Ren pulled it back out again, stroke by stroke and then some.

_What if he kills you, sir?_

Opan's words chased each other around in his head, over and over, as Ren painted agony onto his flesh. He hadn't started counting at the beginning. Even if he had, he'd have lost track somewhere as he poured more and more of his will into his grip on the bar.

He lost sense of himself again, unable to retreat before the onslaught. The wall in in front of his face disappeared, lost in a haze of greys and reds that faded and pulsed with each blow. Everything blurred together, the sting of sweat as it fell from his forehead into his eyes, the stabbing pulse in his jaw as a molar cracked under the strain of his clenched jaw, the parting of his flesh beneath each blow from the cruel metal, the burning trails left the blood that trickled down his legs.

He missed the belt and the simple bludgeoning it bestowed. It hadn't been this flexible. It hadn't wrapped around his ribs or molded itself to his shoulder blades in an obscene parody of affection. It hadn't carved its intentions into his flesh or his psyche.

When at last he lost his hold on the bar, Ren finally paused. Hanging from the manacles, hands grasping at air, he knew. Knew that one more lash, one more slice, would undo him, would break his resolve. He let his forehead rest against the wall, waiting, listening to Ren pace behind him. Instead of the whistle of an incoming strike, though, he heard instead the metallic chime of the slat hitting the floor.

No hand touched him, but the manacles undid themselves all the same. When they released he fell, crumpling to the floor. His  breath escaped him in a pained groan, unheard over the thud of Ren's boots as he left. When the door closed behind Ren it took his consciousness with it.

He awoke in a bacta tank, Mitaka's blurred outline visible through the viscous fluid. His lieutenant sat on a stool next to the tank, tapping away at his datapad, scowling at the information that scrolled across the screen. When he twitched, gagging at the sickly sweet taste that always accompanied such treatment, Mitaka stood, snapping to attention.

"General! MD-12! He's awake!"

The cloying miasma that lingered at the back of his throat long past his removal from the tank only heightened the nausea that built in his stomach as Mitaka rattled off a report from the days he'd lost. Two systems had been lost, and he knew without a doubt their loss would be laid at his feet.

"Why doesn't he just order Kylo to kill me and get it over with?"

"Sir?"

"Nevermind." He hadn't realized he'd said that aloud.

His recovery wasn't as complete as it should be, he realized later that evening. The bacta hadn't been at full strength. While the lash marks had healed over, scars still remained. His mirror showed him an irregular latticework of white ridges covering his back from neck to buttocks.

It took some smooth talking, several sleepless nights and the brokering of a new trade agreement, but over the next week he regained the ground they'd lost and then some. He even made headway tracking Resistance movements. And yet, when the time came for their next holoconference with Snoke, he feared it still wouldn't be enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't do any writing in the car over our vacation so I've still got a bit of work on Ch 5. I'm hoping I'll have it posted next Monday, after the holiday. Thanks for your patience!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yes, the chapter count went up - don't hate me

Nothing happened during the holoconference. No reference was made to the careful way he still held himself, or how he flinched whenever Ren shifted beside him. Instead, Snoke praised him for his progress. That was almost worse than the scorn he'd expected. He kept his thoughts focused on his plans for continued expansion, and on his ideas for new weaponry.

So much effort went into projecting, protecting what lay beneath the surface, that he walked out of the room with a pounding headache. He couldn't let his guard down even then. He never knew if Ren could be listening, searching for any random bit of disloyalty. And to think he'd once thought they might work well together.

Ren stiffened at his side and he couldn't help but shy away, cursing himself for cowardice even as he tensed, waiting for another blow to fall. A muscle twitched in Ren's cheek and without a word he strode away. Once Ren rounded the corner Hux let his shoulders relax, reaching out to the wall to steady himself. He allowed himself ten seconds of weakness before returning to the command deck.

Weeks passed. Every day he quashed the hope that rose with him, that he might have passed through, that Snoke was satisfied and his punishment was over. Until he had confirmation he couldn't allow himself to entertain any such belief. Not until he heard the words fall from Snoke's lips would he allow himself to accept his reprieve.

Ren was absent more often than not, but that brought him no relief. Ren had returned before, after all, to admonish him when his thoughts had turned in certain directions. So he tried every day to maintain the facade and push down his doubts. He especially avoided any thoughts of how much more smoothly things would run without Snoke's interference. 

For a time he succeeded, and as the weeks passed his guard came down, bit by bit, without him even realizing. He should have been more careful.

  


~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

"We now have almost complete control over the Outer Rim and have received overtures from several of the core worlds, Supreme Leader."

"Good. Very good. And what about the Resistance? Have you finally located their last stronghold?"

Hux froze, dread pooling in his gut.

"Stronghold?" he asked at last. There had been no whisper of any Resistance activity after the attacks he'd led on their last known locations. Each base had been razed and no ships had escaped. He'd reported each success as it occurred in the previous weeks. And Ren had stood next to him only days ago, agreeing with Snoke that they felt no worrisome presences in the Force.

"Have you allowed yourself to forget my command, General?" 

Anger boiled out from his core, burning through his carefully constructed facade.

"I have forgotten nothing. I have obeyed every order ...." 

He got no further. Ren's fist drove the air from him. He doubled over, gasping, and Ren's next blow drove him to his knees.

 _Punch to the solar plexus. Elbow to the kidney_ , the part of his brain that never shut off noted. An effective way to shut someone up.

Next came a series of kicks to the ribs. The stabbing pain that followed suggested several of them had broken. One last kick ensured it. Through the haze of pain that coated his eyes he saw Snoke lean forward, holographic hands grasping at the armrests of his throne. His face split in a rictus of a grin.

"There is hope for one of you, at least," he gloated.

Sodding old fool. He should have tried to kill him when he had the chance.

Any further semblance of thought left him when Ren's boot connected with his temple.

He wasn't out for long. When consciousness returned Ren still stood over him in a now-darkened room.

"You fool. Do you want him to order me to kill you?"

So Ren would, indeed, do as Opan had predicted. It’d been foolish to think otherwise. Hard on the heels of this thought the nausea overtook him. It was with a certain vindictive glee that he saw his vomit had splattered Kylo's boots.

"You're the fool if you think that's not what he's working up to," he choked out after he finished. It came as no surprise to see blood in the vomit. He tasted it too, sharp and metallic, cutting through the sour tang of bile. Speaking brought on a bout of coughing, dry rasping spasms, and each cough brought with it a stabbing pain.

For the first time since Ren's return he saw Ren's mask slip. Denial, anger, pain, rage, all there finally, in the flash of his eye, the tremble of his jaw, the clench of his fists.

"Oh. There you are. I thought you were gone for good." His concussion must be worse than he thought if such idiocy was escaping his lips.

Ren circled him and he tried to brace himself for another blow, stiffening in shock when instead Ren knelt beside him and slid an arm underneath him. Lifting him first to a sitting position, Ren stood, cradling him against his chest.

He'd have laughed if it didn't hurt so much. Irony, that when he felt Kylo's arms around him at last, it was like this, when he was broken and bleeding and pain blotted out the words Kylo murmured to him. No sweet nothings, no declarations, just frantic entreaties and pleas. _Stay with me_ , it sounded like he was saying and _Don't die, Hux_.

Ren carried him from the room, taking him to medbay, he assumed. He drifted for a bit, and he must have slipped into sleep, or unconsciousness. Did it matter which, truly? No, what mattered was how the pain disappeared, replaced by a warmth, an airiness in his bones.

Kylo was still with him, there in his dreams, fingers smoothing the hair back from his face, lips brushing against his forehead. Since it was a dream, he could allow himself to catch Kylo's hand, to bring it to his lips. Strange, though. When he'd done this before in his dreams, Kylo hadn't start crying, hadn't make a noise as if he'd been stabbed in the gut. He'd wonder why, but he was so tired. That was strange too, that he'd feel so tired in his dreams.

 _It'll be all right, Hux. Sleep_ , dream Kylo told him, squeezing his hand. _When you wake up I'll have fixed everything. I'll make everything all right. I promise._

  


~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

He didn't expect to wake up but he did, and in a bacta tank again. How long would the taste linger this time?

Mitaka stood vigil as before. He'd have to do something to protect both him and Opan. A transfer, maybe. If he distanced himself from them it might afford them both some measure of protection when the inevitable finally occurred. He wouldn't let them fall with him, and he wouldn't let either of them die trying to save him.

Leaving wasn't a possibility. Even if he was willing to walk away from the First Order, Ren would find him. If he by some strange stroke of luck somehow managed killed Ren, Snoke would come for him personally, or set the rest of the knights to hunting him down. Death at Kylo's hands would seem merciful then.

He allowed himself a wallow in self-pity as he dressed and a few flights of fancy as he worked his way through the meal they'd provided for him.

This time he'd healed fully. It seemed a waste of resources. As Mitaka briefed him, he filed each item away in his mental map. There had been no crises while he'd been under this time so he had no ground to recover. They'd progressed with his plans while he'd been in the tank. If he was allowed to proceed, they were in a good position to take another two systems in the next month.

It took a day for him to verify that Ren had left the ship while he'd been in medbay. By the end of the second day, he realized that Opan was missing as well. Opan hadn't logged in for his shifts, and Hux hadn't given him any extra assignments in months that would take him away from his post. Even when the captain disappeared for nefarious reasons he still had ways of contacting Hux. A blank message would appear in his inbox, or a droid would emit a coded ping.

Letting himself into Opan's quarters, he found Opan's code cylinders sitting on the stand next to his bed. Sinking down onto the mattress, cylinders in hand, Hux shook his head. He had no idea Opan's loyalty ran so deep.

"You'll be missed, Captain."

Setting the cylinders back where he'd found them, he left, sealing the room behind him.

Ren's departure hadn't been logged, so it shouldn't have come as a surprise that his return also occurred without notice. When he returned to his quarters one evening he came to a dead stop, heart pounding at the sight of Ren standing in the middle of his receiving room. It took a few moments to notice that someone stood beside Ren, and another few after that to recognize that someone as Opan.

"General," Opan said, nodding. His formerly jet-black hair was now a brilliant red, to match Hux's own. He smoothed it back, self-conscious under Hux's astonished stare.

"Hux." Ren's voice was harsh, his breathing ragged. He held himself as if in pain, leaning slightly to one side, arms behind him.

No sound came out of Hux's mouth at first. It took a few tries before he could find his words. At last he got out, "Would one of you kindly explain ... this ... whatever it is?"

In response, Ren brought his arm around from behind his back. From his hand hung his cowl, wrapped around some object. With a flick of his wrist he shook it free. Hux stepped back as Snoke's head hit the floor with a hollow thud. One watery blue eye stared up at him, still widened in shock. The hilt of a dagger protruded from the other socket. He recognized the hilt, one of a matching set he'd presented to Opan when he'd made Captain.

"So that's why you missed your shifts." He was going to have to figure out how to promote Opan again now. "Assisted in assassinating the head of the Order" wasn't something he could put on a recommendation, though. 

"We were a bit busy, yes, sir." 

Hux's eyes flicked from Opan's hair to Snoke's head and back again. 

"Would either of you care to explain?" he asked when neither Opan nor Ren ventured to speak.

When Ren still didn't say anything, Opan ventured. "I think this is a conversation best left to the two of you, sir." Not waiting to be dismissed, he saluted and left.

 _I'm glad you're not dead_ , Hux thought at his retreating back.

When the door closed behind Opan, he turned to Ren, feeling a fleeting moment of pride that he could meet Ren's eyes without flinching. Ren held eye contact for a brief moment before letting his eyes fall. Hux's heartbeat spiked when Ren's hands went to his belt. He forced himself to keep breathing when Ren removed it, folding it in two and holding it between his hands. And then Ren sank down to his knees before him, his head bowed. He raised his hands up, offering what they held out to Hux.

"Hux. I'm sorry. So sorry."


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the long wait - depression kicked me in the butt hard this summer (and not in a Chuck Tingle way). But here it is, at long last - the end of the story. Thanks for sticking with me!

Hux felt frozen in place, looking down at Ren. Of all the scenarios he'd played out in his head for Ren's return, he'd never imagined anything like this. Hesitantly, he took a step forward. Ren didn't move.

It took mere seconds to cross the room, but each one of them felt like an age. With each step he took, Ren seemed to shrink further into himself. His hands never wavered, though, still holding his belt above his head.

Hux couldn't bring himself to completely close the distance between them even as unthreatening as Ren made himself seem.

"Why?" he asked.

"I thought I'd kept it hidden, but he knew. He always knew."

"Knew what?"

When Ren looked up at him, he could see what the distance between them had hid - the mottling of his skin, the burst blood vessels in one eye, the split lip.

"That I'd begun to seek support from someone else."

 

 

_“It is time for you to return to the Finalizer.”_

_“Yes, Supreme Leader.”_

_“You have endured much, and yet there is one test you must undergo.”_

_Ren kept his face impassive, waiting for Snoke to continue. When he remained silent, Snoke nodded in approval._

_“I have not yet addressed Starkiller Base with General Hux.” A tremor passed through him at this, a feeling of dread stealing through him.  Snoke’s next words cemented this feeling._

_“Since its destruction occurred under your joint command, it is only right that his punishment awaits your return.”_

_Kylo clenched his teeth together, biting back the words he wanted to say. If he spoke out, it would only make things worse.  He felt this in every fiber of his body._

_Snoke waited, the silence stretching out between them, and finally, he continued._

_“The pain you have withstood, he shall also bear, and he shall receive it from your hand.” Snoke leaned forward. “And be warned, my apprentice.  I know your innermost feelings, your secret desires. I know everything you have tried to hide from me. And if at any point the general receives anything but pain from you it will mean his death.”_

_Kylo nodded, not trusting his voice wouldn’t break. It wasn’t enough._

_“Do you understand?” Snoke demanded._

_“Yes, Supreme Leader.” He could hear the tremor in his voice and waited for Snoke to blast him for it but instead his master leaned back on his throne, smiling._

_“Good. Very good.”_

 

 

"So, all of this was because ..."

"I'm sorry," Ren repeated. He stilled when Hux reached out, taking the belt he still held aloft. Hux could see his pupils flare, hear the unsteadiness in his breath.

The temptation to strike was strong. Just once. One mark on that pale skin, to offset the network of scars that now marred his own.

Ren flinched when his arm drew back, and stared in shock when Hux threw his belt across the room.

"Get up." The words came out harsher than he intended, but that couldn't be helped. Ren continued to stare up at him, making no attempt to rise. Rolling his eyes, Hux held out a hand. Hesitant, Ren took it, and Hux braced himself as Ren hauled himself up. He pulled more heavily on Hux’s hand than expected and Hux braced himself, catching Ren when he staggered, nearly overbalancing them both.

"You're a mess."

Ren truly was. This close, Hux could smell him, reeking of sour sweat and blood and ozone. His robes were stiff with who knew what and charred in places, flashes of flesh showing through the rents in the fabric. Hux couldn't talk to him like this.

"Let's get you cleaned up."

Ren let Hux lead him to the 'fresher. He hadn't said a word, but his eyes tracked Hux's every movement, a strange expression in his eyes. Gone was the mask he'd worn, his face as open again as the first day Hux had seen him without his helmet.

Hux left him standing in the middle of the cubicle, staring after him with lost eyes as he retreated to the outer room.

He heard the thud of a boot hitting the floor as he put the summons for a med droid to his quarters. After a moment's consideration, he also placed a requisition for standard exercise wear, sweatpants and a tank, in what he estimated would be Ren's size.

Although he flagged the items for immediate delivery neither had arrived before Ren finished showering. He emerged from Hux's 'fresher, towel wrapped precariously around his waist, tiny rivulets of water trailing down his chest from his still damp hair. The scathing complaint Hux started to make died when he saw what Ren's clothes had hidden.

The bruising on Ren's left cheek continued downwards. It was amazing he could move that arm. Livid red and purple marks ran along the entire left side of his body. The towel hid some of it but he could see more bruises on Ren's thigh as the towel shifted with his movements. Those weren't the worst of it, though. Burn marks scored into Ren's skin on top of the hematomas, long ugly marks similar to the welts Ren had left on his body. Other markings radiated out from these, delicate traceries of white lines, stark against Ren's mottled flesh. They reminded Hux of frost on the viewports of Starkiller Base. It would be beautiful in a less morbid setting, he couldn't help but think.

The chime at his door interrupted his thoughts and broke the awkward silence. The service droid arrived shortly afterwards and Hux took the bundle of clothing from it and dismissed it.

Ren sat with his eyes closed, the only sign of life in him the slight rise and fall of his chest as the med droid sealed his wounds. By the time it finished Ren's hair had mostly dried. When Hux grew tired of standing he set the new clothes on the bed beside Ren and retreated to his office.

"Thank you," he heard Ren whisper as he reached the door. He paused in the doorway and almost looked back.

"You can sleep here tonight, if you wish. I have work to catch up on."

He really did have things to do. It wasn't an excuse. It wasn't a reason to hide in his office with the door closed. It wasn't a reason to avoid thinking of the man in the next room, or what they might say to each other when the med droid left.

He'd worked his way through several reports before the door to his office opened. Ren stood, blinking at the light, uncertainty evident in his stance and face.

The droid had done good work. Ren looked almost human again. He still had dark circles under his eyes but his cuts were sealed and the bruises were already beginning to face.

Words warred with each other in Hux's mouth and he couldn't decide between any of them, so instead he nodded at Ren and returned his attention to his datapad. The words swam before his eyes and he scowled, rubbing his eyes.

"Hux," Ren began, but then he paused. It looked like he, too, was casting about for something to stay. Eventually, instead of speaking, he stepped into the room. He approached Hux's desk in measured paces, slow and deliberate. Either he still hurt more than he was letting on or he was taking care not to spook Hux as he approached. Or both, Hux thought, as he felt his pulse quicken as Ren neared.

He continued to pretend to read as Ren came around the desk, and his breath caught in his throat as Ren knelt beside him. When Ren rested his cheek against Hux's leg he froze, the breath he'd been holding escaped him in one shuddering gasp.

Ren didn't move. Hux didn't know what to do. Ren's hair was still damp and the water began to soak into his trousers, but still neither of them stirred. Finally, Hux gave in and did what he'd wanted to do for years - he let his hand fall to Kylo's head and laced his fingers through the silken strands. Ren shuddered as Hux's hand caught on a tangle, then sagged against him when Hux combed through it and moved on to another section. After an untold time Hux realized Ren had fallen asleep where he knelt. He didn't stop, though. Eventually he'd have to get Ren up and into a bed, but not now. Not quite yet.

When he woke before his alert the next morning it took Hux several minutes to realize why. It wasn't until Ren stirred next to him that it all came back to him. How he’d dragged Ren up off the floor and over to his bed eventually, and how he’d collapsed next to him, only meaning to lay there for a few minutes before returning to his desk.

He’d slept with his boots on, and in his full uniform. It was a tossup as to whether his belt or his collar dug in more painfully, and his mouth felt like something had died in it. Suppressing a groan, he eased himself into a sitting position.

According to the chrono next to his bed he’d slept a full six hours but it didn’t feel like it. Glancing over at Ren, he suppressed the urge to bury his fingers in Ren’s hair again.

When he emerged from the ‘fresher Ren still hadn’t stirred. Cleaned and coiffed and clad in a fresh uniform, he felt better this morning than he had in months.

 _Amazing how not having to fear for one’s life improves one’s outlook_ , he thought as he left his quarters.

When he reported in for his shift, he found Opan in his usual station. The captain’s hair was back to its normal black, Hux noticed. He nodded to Opan, who returned the gesture, then returned his attention to his console.

Halfway through his shift, Ren swept onto the deck, clad head to toe in his usual black. There was something different about him, Hux thought, but he couldn't place what. Perhaps it was the same thing he felt, the weight lifted and an extra spring in his step because of it?

Ren came to stand next to Hux, staring out the viewport at the passing stars as the deck hummed beneath them. The crew studiously ignored them, burying themselves in their work, Opan among them.

Eventually Hux broke the silence between them, keeping his voice low so they wouldn't be overheard.

"How did you drag Opan into this mess?"

"It was his idea, to impersonate you. It allowed us to get close enough, and then when Snoke realized it wasn't you he cast Opan aside, then ignored him. The fool."

Opan looked up at them briefly, as if sensing they were discussing him, then returned his attention to his console.

"You'll have to tell me some day," Kylo continued, "what you did to earn such loyalty."

"Perhaps someday."

Someday. He had somedays ahead of him now, long stretches of them.

"I look forward to it," Ren said.

He did too, Hux realized, surprised. 

_Someday…._

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! If you want to say hi, [check out my profile](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thewightknight/profile) for where I’m currently hanging out on this here internet thing.


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